Notes
by MalllladeImaginaire
Summary: Macavity starts receiving strange notes challenging him to prove himself as a master criminal. At the same time a murder takes place in the Junkyard. Demeter is terrified and believes Macavity to be the culprit, but is he? One of my entries for Magical-Marvel-Mr.Mistoffelees' "We are NOT cliche!" challenge! xx (Warning: Character death!)
1. Chapter 1

**Pairing: Munkustrap / Demeter, Macavity / Demeter  
**

**Cliché theme: "I'll save you from Macavity!"  
**

* * *

It was a Tuesday when the first note came. The envelope was crumpled and wet, stained with mud and large splashes of ink, as if whoever had addressed it was not used to holding a pen. It was almost impossible to make out the name scrawled in angular, spidery writing across the front of the letter, but holding it up to the light the word 'Macavity' was just legible. Inside, the writing of the note itself was no better, almost impossible to read. The spelling was atrocious, the punctuation worse.

The Napoleon of Crime was sat at his desk in an old, disused warehouse in one of London's seedier areas. His office was on the top floor, only reachable by a winding, rickety, metal staircase with only one door and one large window, overlooking the rooftops of London. The door was guarded twenty-four hours a day, seven day a week, the window was barred and locked from the inside. There was no possible way into the office without Macavity's express permission. And yet somehow this note had made it onto his desk.

Studying the envelope carefully the large ginger tom decided to punish whoever had been on guard that day. It was not acceptable to let things such as this happen. It had already taken him several hours to go through all his papers and make sure none were missing or had been riffled. That was at least two hours gone out of his busy schedule. Two hours he couldn't afford to waste.

Not even bothering to read the offending note, Macavity pulled a sheet of paper towards him and began to scribble, the sound of pen scratching on paper filling the room. After several minutes he finished writing and looked up. The room was empty and still, warm sunlight streaming in through the barred window throwing long shadows onto the scratched wooden floorboards and giving the room a prison-like appearance.

He smiled, a cold smile that never reached his eyes, then the ginger tom raised his paw and banged it down on the desk, sending pens, paper, maps and other odds and ends flying everywhere. The resulting crash reverberated round the office and down the stairs, making several pigeons perched outside on the window ledge take flight in terror. His golden eyes glittering with malice, the Hidden Paw waited.

It took nearly ten seconds for the door to fly open, bouncing off the wall as it did so, and two of his henchcats to sprint into the room, claws out, teeth bared, ready for action. Too slow, Macavity thought lazily to himself as he eyed the two cats, too slow. Valentin was a large Burmese tom and while not actually a guard, he was in fact Macavity's top assassin, he should have done better and his reactions were nowhere near good enough. As for the other henchcat, her slowness to react and her failure to prevent someone from getting into the office to deliver the note were inexcusable. Lyssa was in charge of security. The rather average, slightly insane tabby queen was supposed to prevent exactly these situations from occurring and yet she had failed.

Macavity's lips curled back from his long, glittering fangs in a disgusted snarl and his eyes blazed with fury and yet he said nothing, merely handed the paper he had been writing on to the small queen and motioned with a furious swipe of his paw for them to get out. Without a word or a backwards glance the pair left the room, not even daring to look at each other or the note in Lyssa's paws.

Little did they know, their boss thought to himself, that that piece of paper was addressed to their colleague Deimos, who was feared throughout London for his skills as a torturer, and instructed him to punish the pair of them for their failure. Well, Macavity reflected, leaning back in his chair and watching the sunlight play on his desk, it was the only fair thing to be done. They had failed and must pay the price. Those were the terms for working for him. They had known that when they signed up.

This chain of thought brought him back to the reason this course of action was necessary. The note. Without particular hurry, Macavity shifted through the papers that had fallen to the floor until he found the right one. The general condition of this peculiar letter made him wrinkle his nose in disgust as he turned it over and tore open the envelope. The note was poorly written but the meaning was clear and it made the Hidden Paw suddenly jerk upright in his chair and stare aghast at the sheet in his hand.

_To Macavity, the Hidden Paw, the Napoleon of Crime, Greetings,_

_Far be it from me to insult you, but in recent years I have been watching you_

_with interest and am afraid to say I was far from impressed. Particularly your _

_criminal activities and your enmity towards the Jellicle tribe have been fascinating_

_to me and I am sad to say you have let me down badly in your dealings with_

_those cats._

_Now what I propose is a little game, to see if you really are as good as they say _

_you are; if you really deserve the title 'The Napoleon of Crime' or if you are what_

_I suspect, a nobody playing at being a master criminal. _

_If you hate the Jellicles as much as you say you do, be warned. They may not_

_be around for much longer. One by one, I will get rid of them. So if you want_

_the privilege of killing them, I suggest you hurry. Or see if you can find me and _

_stop me._

_Catch me if you can, Macavity._

_Regards._

Who on earth...? How dare they? He was so shocked that Macavity even forgot his usual self-controlled, emotionless façade and almost leapt out of his chair in horror. Who would dare challenge him? He had made sure all of his main rivals were in no position to oppose him. It had been one of the first things he'd done on establishing his reputation as a master of crime. His enemies were all six feet under, so who on earth would have the gall and the nerve to challenge and to criticise _him_?! How was this even possible?

Without further ado, the criminal jumped to his feet and almost ran to the door, pulling it open so violently the old hinges creaked ominously and the door frame rattled in the wall. The Hidden Paw was badly shaken. He didn't understand what was going on. He needed to get to the Jellicle's Junkyard as quickly as possible. He had to find out what was going on.

The new guards at the bottom of the stairs, whipped round when they heard him approaching and stared dumbfounded as their employer bounded past them, fur untidy, eyes wide, and out into the bright sunlight.

* * *

It was Tumblebrutus who found her. She was lying at the bottom of a pile of rubbish, half leaning against it in a bizarre slouched position, her eyes wide and staring, horror and shock written all over her face. Three deep slashes criss-crossed her chest, leaving ugly, gaping wounds still with trails of dried blood running down her fur onto the floor.

For a moment the young tom was frozen, unable to move or even think. Eventually he found his voice again. "Help! Someone, help!", Tumblebrutus croaked, his voice was hoarse and cracked. No one heard him.

It took three attempts. Third time of calling Munkustrap heard him. "Tumble? What is it?", the older Jellicle made his way towards the younger, a worried frown on his face. "Are you alright?"

Shakily Tumblebrutus pointed down at the rubbish and the blood pooling at his feet. The silver tabby reached him and stopped dead in his tracks, his mouth falling open, eyes widening. "Rumpleteazer?", he whispered and crouched down next to the still figure at their feet, "Can you hear me?" He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. She was stone cold.

With a sombre gaze, Munkustrap turned to look at Tumblebrutus. "There's nothing we can do. Can you fetch help, please, Tumble? We can't just leave her here."

As the young tom rushed off he turned back to the still figure of Rumpleteazer. "I'm sorry," the tabby whispered quietly, "I'm so sorry." Gently he closed her eyes.

Behind him a crowd had formed. Jellylorum was holding a sobbing Jennyanydots, who was beside herself and hysterical. Skimbleshanks stood beside her, eyes dry as if unable to grasp what had happened. The kittens were grouped around Plato and Tumblebrutus, all the little queens were in tears, the three toms didn't seem to know what to do and were stood in a shocked silence. Mistoffelees, Admetus and Alonzo were stood together a little further back. Bombalurina and Demeter were clutching at each other, terror in their eyes. Coricopat and Tantomile had their heads bowed and were standing in silence, agonized expressions on their faces.

A sudden voice cut through the silence. "Woss 'appenin'? Why are you lot stood 'ere?" Mungojerrie had come bounding over from where he had been lounging on an old cardboard box. " 'ave any of yer seen Teaz?", the calico tom demanded as he pushed through the crowd. The other Jellicles seemed too shocked to stop him and just watched as he made his way to the front of the group. "Wot...", the words died on his lips as he caught sight of his mate lying sprawled at his feet.

Quickly Munkustrap got to his feet. "Jerrie, don't touch her. This is a crime scene, we may need to collect evidence to find out what happened." He placed himself between the pile of rubbish and the smaller tom and reached out towards him placing a paw on his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Wot d'yer mean? Why ain't nobody 'elpin' 'er?" The calico tried to push past Munkustrap. "Teaz! Wake up!"

The silver tabby barring his way refused to move. "I'm sorry, Jerrie. There isn't anything we can do." Pity welled up inside him as he looked at Mungojerrie. The younger tom looked utterly crushed and completely devastated.

"Teaz...", he whispered under his breath, "...please." Shakily Mungojerrie reached out a paw towards his mate but she didn't move. Tears sprang to his eyes but he angrily blinked them away. "She'll be foine. She 'as ter be."

Mechanically, Munkustrap repeated: "I'm sorry, Jerrie." He couldn't believe this was happening to them. Who would want to kill Rumpleteazer? Why would anyone do a thing like that? Sadly, he looked down at the body at his feet. Who would do that to a young queen with her whole life ahead of her? Who could be that evil? The more he thought, the more one name kept reoccurring in Munkustrap's mind. It could only have been Macavity. It had to be. Who else could...? The silver tabby stopped himself short. This wasn't helping anybody. He was in charge here, he had to take responsibility, not just fall apart like a frightened child.

"Alonzo, Admetus, could you move Rumpleteazer, please," his voice came out sounding harsh and wrong in his own ears, like he had a sore throat or had been crying, "Misto can you make sure everyone gets back to their dens safely." He glanced pointedly at Rumpleteazer's parents, making it clear that it was them he wanted Mistoffelees to keep an eye on. "Jelly, can you look after Jenny and Skimble. Is it alright if they stay with you?" The pale queen nodded her head slightly and Munkustrap continued. "Can you take Jerrie with you as well. It'd be better if he wasn't alone. And everyone please clear the area."

Mungojerrie looked like he was about to protest. Tears were running silently down his cheeks and his eyes were fixed on Rumpleteazer's face, as if willing her to get up and say this was all some horrible, twisted joke. She didn't and he let himself be gently pulled away by Asparagus, back towards the main clearing, staring over his shoulder as he went.

When the area was clear and Rumpleteazer's body had been moved to an empty den, Munkustrap began to search the area for clues. He found nothing. No fur, no scent, nothing. With a disappointed sigh, the Jellicle protector rocked back on his heels. So there wasn't even a trace of who had done this. He couldn't even get justice for the little queen's family. He screwed his eyes shut as tears began to sting them. He had failed them. He...

"It was Macavity, wasn't it?", a voice suddenly spoke behind him.

Munkustrap started and whirled round. "Deme, what are you still doing here? I thought Bomba was taking you back to her den with her?" He looked Demeter up and down. The small black and gold queen was trembling from head to foot, her eyes were wide and she had the look of a cornered beast. Sobs were racking her small fame but she seemed to be beyond tears. Horrified, Munkustrap crossed the small distance between them and pulled her into an embrace. "It's alright, Dem."

Her voice was shrill an piercing when she spoke. "It's not alright, though, is it? You know it isn't. It's him. It's Macavity. I can feel it. He did this." She laughed hysterically, hiccuping several times. "He's finally got bored of watching us. He wants revenge. He'll come after all of us. He's going to murder us all. None of us are safe. We..."

Her mate quickly silence her by gently kissing her. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you." Demeter gestured wildly and let out a helpless squeaking noise, as if to say there was nothing he could do to protect her. Quickly, the tom continued: "I'll protect you from him, I swear. He won't get to you. I won't let him hurt you." He took her paws in his and pulled her round to look at him. "I'll keep you safe, Demeter."

"You can't, no one can!", the terrified queen choked out, "he's always been obsessed with me. You know he has. He'll be after me next. He will!" She crumpled to the floor sobbing and trembling, only Munkustrap's grip on her wrist prevented her from falling and hurting herself.

"Maybe not. Maybe because he's obsessed with you he won't hurt you. He could have done it by now if he'd wanted to." Even in his own ears it sounded like a feeble argument and from the look on his mate's face he could tell she didn't believe him either. "We should get home", the tom suggested wearily, "you might feel safer there."

Frantically, Demeter shook her head and pulled out of his grip, backing away, eyes darting madly from side to side. "Don't take me back there!" She held out her paws in front of her to stop him getting any closer as she backed into a stack of junk and flattened herself against it.

"But we have to go home. We can't stay out here all night." Munkustrap was completely bewildered. Why didn't she want to go home? Surely that was safer than standing outside...

"He'll find me! I can't escape from him! He'll kill me!" She was in a hysterical panic by now and nothing Munkustrap said seemed to calm her down. The black and gold queen continued to back away from him as if in fear, cowering against the rubbish behind her. "He'll kill again. What if next time it's me? What if it's Jemmie? What if it's you?" Terror was making her voice shrill and broken, she barely even sounded like herself any more.

The poor tom was overwhelmed. He had no idea what to do or what to say. It was killing him to see Demeter backing away from him in fear. Through everything that had happened they had always stood together and been there for each other and now she was looking at him as if he was her enemy. For the first time in many years Munkustrap was at a loss for what to do. Pitifully he reached out his arms to her and took a step closer.

Demeter cringed away with a whimper. "I won't go back! He knows where to find me. I'm not safe at home. You can't make me!"

"I won't let him hurt you, Demeter. I promise."

"No, no,"she wailed, "I can't. He'll... I'm... Munkustrap..." And with that she collapsed in a dead faint, her eyelids flickering closed.

Her mate rushed immediately to her side. "Demeter?" He knelt down beside her in the mud and dirt and felt for her pulse. It was fine and her breathing was regular and even. Ever so carefully, Munkustrap picked her up, as if she weighed no more than a kitten, and carried her back towards their den. Whatever Demeter said, they needed to get home. Jemima was alone and unguarded in their den, they couldn't just leave her by herself.

Quickening his pace, the silver tabby made it inside and shut the door quietly behind him. He laid Demeter on the pile of blankets that served them as a bed and went to look for Jemima. She was nowhere to be found but he did discover a note in Jellylorum's handwriting. _"Munkustrap. Jemima is with us. I thought it better she wasn't alone and you were busy and Demeter wasn't there. She's safe and we're looking after her. Jellylorum." _

A sigh of relief escaped him. His daughter at least was safe.

Behind him Demeter let out a feeble groan and sat up. Her eyes were still red-rimmed, her fur was still messy, but she had lost the panicked expression. Gingerly the queen ran her paws through her fur in a vague attempt to tidy it up and rubbed her eyes. Then she turned to her mate, a look of anguish on her face. "Munkustrap, I'm sorry."

"No, it's alright," he answered quickly, hurrying over to sit on the bed beside her, "you were upset and it was a shock. It's perfectly natural." The silver tom wrapped his arms round her and was glad to feel his mate lean into the hug and rest her head on his shoulder. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

"It was just too much. I got scared and then I overreacted," she mumbled into his fur, "I didn't mean to push you away." As if to prove this she wrapped her arms tighter around his waist.

"I know, I know."

They spent another few minutes just sat in silence in each other's arms before Demeter leant away from him slightly to look up at his face. "Was it him?" Her eyes were full of fear but there was no sign of hysterics. She seemed to have managed to get herself back under control. "He has decided he wants revenge, hasn't he." It was more a statement than a question.

Munkustrap didn't even bother to deny that it was probably Macavity who had murdered the calico thief. They both knew it was. Instead he responded to her other statement. "We don't know that. Everyone knows Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer worked for him. It might have nothing to do with revenge. It might be to do with that. If she upset him in some way, if she disobeyed him..."

"It makes sense, I suppose." The small queen was picking at the blanket, fraying the edges and pulling threads out of it to line up in front of her. Lines of worry were etched into her normally calm face and a vein in her temple was throbbing slightly. "I'm still afraid," she breathed not looking up from the blanket, "I don't know why but I am."

A sense of calm spread over Munkustrap. They'd been through this before when Demeter had first escaped from Macavity. They'd got through it then and they'd get through it again now. This was something he knew how to deal with. This was something he could sort out. Softly, he whispered in her ear, so his breath tickled the side of her face: "I'll protect you from him, Dem. I won't let him hurt you."

Her large, brown eyes turned to gaze into his blue ones and she smiled. A genuine, loving, happy smile. "I know you will", she whispered back.


	2. Chapter 2

"But why?"

Munkustrap sighed and looked down at the assembled Jellicles. It was the morning after they had discovered Rumpleteazer and as if to mirror the general mood of the tribe, the weather was foul. It wasn't exactly raining but the air was thick and damp, with grey fog swirling around the Junkyard. The kind of fog that seemed to seep right inside you and chill you from the inside out.

Still, the Jellicle protector had insisted they all gather in the clearing. They had all come, even Mungojerrie. The calico thief was stood alone at the back of the group glowering up at Munkustrap as if he was in some way personally responsible for what had happened. Anger was written in every tense muscle and rigid line of his body. Anger and despair.

In a way, the silver tom reflected, it was his fault. He should never had let that happen to her. It was his job to protect the tribe, to keep them safe, and he had failed. Not only had he failed Rumpleteazer, he had failed her mate, her parents and her friends as well by letting someone harm the person they loved. That was why he had called this meeting. He was not going to let anyone else get hurt. No one else would have to go through what they were going through, that at least he could make sure of.

Briefly closing his eyes, Munkustrap rubbed them hard with his paws. He had to get a grip and think logically, blaming himself was not going to help. With a second sigh the tall Jellicle opened his eyes and began his speech again, trying to make it clear to the others what he was planning: "As I said, we are going to increase the amount of patrols around the Junkyard. There will be a curfew and no one will be allowed to go anywhere or do anything by themselves. Something terrible happened yesterday and even though I'm sure it was an isolated incident..." He paused briefly to examine the faces looking up at him. Most wore an expression of mixed disbelief and fear. He knew what they were thinking and he knew not one of them believed him that it was an isolated incident and they knew he didn't believe it any more than they did.

Munkustrap took a shuddering, deep breath and continued: "Even though I'm sure it was an isolated incident we have to be on our guard. We can't risk anything of the kind happening again. Not that it will, of course," he added hastily, "but better to be on the safe side and just be careful for a little while." He tried to smile reassuringly down at them but all he could manage was a sort of twisted grimace. "So if the toms would all like to join me in..."

A loud voice interrupted him from the back of the group. "Wotcher gonna do about Teaz? 'ave yer even tried ter find out 'oo did this ter 'er?", Mungojerrie's eyes were blazing with fury. "Yer keep sayin' 'ow terrible it is but yer 'aven't even bovvered ter do nuffink. Yer were sposed ter be keepin' 'er safe and yer didn't even bovver ter do that properly and now she's dead and it's all yor fault. She would be alive now if yer 'ad done yor job but yer didn't and now she's dead an' all yer can say is 'ow terrible it is. Yer disgust me!" The burglar had tears in his eyes as he glared up at Munkustrap with a look of pure loathing before spitting in his direction and turning on his heel to vanish into the fog.

There was a shocked silence. No one moved, they all stood staring up at Munkustrap or over their shoulders at where Mungojerrie had vanished. You could have heard a pin drop.

Eventually Alonzo managed to pull himself together. "Where did you want us to meet Munkustrap?", he asked. His voice was rather strained and shaking slightly with some unfathomable emotion, whether it was anger or shock no one could tell.

"In the old car. As quickly as possible possible, please. And everyone else make sure you stay together. Make sure someone is with you at all times. Try and stay inside as much as possible." Munkustrap threw his friend a thankful, relieved glance and jumped down from the large car tyre he had been balancing on. A quick look told him that most of the toms were already making their was towards the rusty, dented old car. A few with families were seeing them safely to their dens but they too would be at the meeting soon. He didn't have long.

A shuddering breath escaped him, almost a sob. So Mungojerrie did blame him for what had happened, that much was clear. He had hoped the younger tom would forgive him, but deep down he knew, had always known, that that would never happen. Mungojerrie had loved Rumpleteazer too much to forgive and forget. He would hate the people he held responsible for ever, and one of those people was Munkustrap. The tabby sank onto the nearest cardboard box and rested his head in his hands in despair. What should he do now?

There was no point trying to find the young tom. He'd be long gone by now. Probably he was safer away from the Junkyard anyway. Best to leave him alone to calm down by himself. It was more what to do about the others that was worrying him. If it was Macavity and he was out for revenge, who knows where he might strike next?

Munkustrap tried to concentrate but it was almost impossible. Images of Demeter and Jemima lying in a pool of blood, eyes wide and staring kept flashing before his eyes and try as he might, the tom could not block them out. His ears were ringing with the sound of Jemima screaming for help, Demeter pleading with him to keep her safe. What if his mate was right? What if they were next?

Angrily, Munkustrap shook his head to try and clear it. Nothing was going to happen to his family. They were all going to be fine. If necessary he could always hide them somewhere, just to be on the safe side. The silver tabby glanced over in the direction of their den. The light was on, and he could make out the silhouettes of three figures, two tall, one small. Even at this distance he recognized the figures. Bombalurina must have decided to stay with Demeter and Jemima to keep them company. Reassured, at least for the moment, he got up from the box and made his way over to the meeting place.

It was a relief to duck out of the cold, damp, stifling fog and into the warm car. A brief shiver ran down Munkustrap's spine as he shook the water droplets from his fur and looked around scanning the faces assembled in front of him. Tumblebrutus and Plato were sat close together on one of the back seats trying to appear grown up and responsible but looking rather uncomfortable in the company of so many older toms. For once the self-obsessed smirk had been wiped off the Rum Tum Tugger's face. He was sat quietly balanced on the dashboard, face pale and strained, bizarrely lacking his usual confidence and flamboyance. Skimbleshanks was standing just outside the car alone and his forbidding facial expression was clearly designed to discourage the others from speaking to him. The orange cat's eyes were red and swollen and he didn't look like he had slept a wink the previous night. Asparagus was as close to his friend as possible without intruding. He was the only one who offered Munkustrap a weak smile as he came in. Coricopat was sat on the front seats with Mistoffelees and looked uncomfortable and awkward without his twin by his side and Admetus hovered uncertainly by the open door as if not sure where to stand.

"Where's Alonzo?", Munkustrap asked puzzled, scanning the interior of the car again.

Coricopat was the one who answered. "He was making sure Cassandra was alright, then he said he'd be here," the mystic tom informed him, "I don't know what's taking him so long." With that he moved further back in his seat as if he had spoken his part and was now only an observer. Clearly at least one person was content only to listen and not to participate in the conversation. Munkustrap could sense the others were all just waiting out of politeness for an opportunity to speak, but once they got the chance they probably had a lot to say or ask. All of them wanted to know what was going on.

He sighed. "We'd better start without him. I can fill him in when he gets here." Already feeling exhausted Munkustrap let himself fall into one of the seats. He felt physically and emotionally drained and it was still early morning. It felt like he hadn't slept for weeks, not just the one night he had sat up planning how to protect the Junkyard. "I've come up with a plan for more patrols. Also, I've made sure we always patrol in pairs, it does mean everyone has to go out twice a day but it's safer." Briefly he paused for breath.

"Safer?", it was Plato's voice that cut through the tense silence, "what do you mean safer? I thought you told us this was an isolated incident." He glowered accusingly at Munkustrap. "Are you now saying we're all still in danger?"

"That's not what I was trying to say at all, Plato. As I said earlier..."

Mistoffelees interrupted: "You think it was Macavity, don't you." The small, tuxedo magician turned to look at everyone in the car in turn. "We all do, just no one has been brave enough to say it." He turned back to the Jellicle protector. "Well, if that's what we think, we need to face up to it. What's the use of pretending?"

The silver tabby opened his mouth to protest, to assure them that nothing was wrong, that they were all safe but no words came out. With a snap he shut his mouth again and looked helplessly up at them.

"Misto's right." To Munkustrap's surprise the Rum Tum Tugger had spoken from where he was still perched on the dashboard. "What's the point in pretending everything's alright if it isn't? If he's going to do this again we have to be prepared. Anyway, we all have the right to know what exactly we're dealing with here." He lapsed into silence again studying his claws with exaggerated interest.

The only sound was that of Munkustrap clearing his throat, a small, dry, uncomfortable cough. Nervously he eyed the other toms before he started to speak: "I found no clues at the... erm... scene. From that I concluded that it was probably Macavity. Demeter was convinced it was him, too." The others nodded their agreement. Everyone knew about Demeter's past with the Hidden Paw and her uncanny ability to sense when he had been around. "So I drew up this schedule. It means more work for us, but we should be safe," he repeated mechanically. No one believed him but this time nobody contradicted him either. "I'll pin it up here for you all to study."

Quickly, he pinned the sheet of paper to the rear-view mirror. His writing was pretty bad and the paper could have been a bit cleaner, but it was still legible enough to make out the timetable with names and areas to be patrolled written in every box. "That's all, I think. Just all be careful. Just in case."

As fast as he could the tom slipped out of the car before they could begin to question him again. Heading away from the wreck, he heard voices raised heatedly as the toms began to discuss the new development, but he didn't really care. First things first, he needed to check Demeter was safe. He had made her a promise and intended to keep it. He would protect her from Macavity if it was the last thing he did.

* * *

Mungojerrie kept running as fast as his paws would carry him. He had no idea where he was going and in all honesty didn't care. Nothing mattered any more. What was the point of anything?

Blindly he turned off into a side street and kept going, dodging round empty cardboard boxes and overflowing dustbins, leaping piles of rubbish and ducking under rotting, dilapidated fences. His thoughts kept returning to Rumpleteazer. How could she be dead? It you just couldn't be true. Never hearing her voice again, never telling her off for giggling too loudly in the middle of a burglary, never being woken by her in the middle of the night because she was bored and wanted someone to talk to... The calico tom screwed his eyes shut trying to block out the memories but all that achieved was him cutting his paw on a shard of glass and tripping over an empty dustbin which had rolled into the middle of the road.

With a muffled curse, Mungojerrie stopped and leaned panting against the wall of the nearest building. This was no good. He needed to think.

There was nothing he could do for Rumpleteazer any more. She was gone. The thought was almost physically painful and he choked back a sob, tears pricking his eyes. He needed to do something or he'd go mad. He couldn't just do _nothing_, otherwise what was the point of life? What was the point of anything? He had to have something to keep him going or he'd just give up.

But then again, he reflected feeling the cold brick pressing into his back chilling him, did he want to keep going? Wouldn't it be easier just to give up? If there was such a thing as an afterlife maybe he'd meet Rumpleteazer again. The thought made his knees positively weak with excitement. Maybe he didn't have to lose her after all. Perhaps she was just waiting for him.

For several minutes the calico tom stood in the alleyway pondering until finally he made a decision. He didn't want to live without Rumpleteazer, but he wanted revenge for her before he went to join her. Revenge meant finding the cat who had murdered her and as far as Mungojerrie could figure out there was only one likely suspect. Pushing himself away from the wall he set off once more at a run into the thick fog.

* * *

"What do you want?"

Mungojerrie was stood outside a dilapidated old warehouse near the docks. The metal door was rusty, the green paint peeling. The bricks were crumbling and the windows were all locked and barred. Only the fact the windows still had glass in them belied the façade the building created of being abandoned and unused.

Said door was open a crack and a pair of startling green eyes were glaring out of the darkness at him. "What do you want?", the voice repeated. It was definitely female and had a slightly melancholy, wistful air to it. The calico tom wondered what the cat to go with it looked like. He'd never seen her around here before, she must be new.

" 'oo are yer?", he countered, "where's Lyssa. She normally guards the door." He drew himself up to his full height and tried to look confident and not like he run through half of London in tears.

"Lyssa's not here at the moment," the voice called back, a note of panic creeping in, "I'm Camille. What do you want?"

Mistake number one, Mungojerrie thought to himself rather smugly, never under any circumstances tell your name to an unknown intruder stood on the doorstep. "Oi'm 'ere ter see the boss."

To his immense shock the door opened to reveal a pretty, little tortoiseshell queen. Mistake number two, Macavity never sees anyone unless they have an appointment, the thief thought, inwardly rejoicing at his luck. Clearly the training procedure was getting a bit lax these days. The little queen hadn't even thought to ask his name or insisted on knowing what he wanted. The calico tom slipped past her into the warehouse and headed for the stairs. Clearly this was going to be easier than he'd thought. What a stroke of luck.

The door to Macavity's office was ajar as Mungojerrie approached and he could hear the sound of claws tapping on wood. Obviously his boss was in. Hurrying along the landing the burglar slammed the door open with as much force as he could muster, claws out prepared for a fight, teeth bared. The door banged off the wall and almost rebounded into the calico tom's face only narrowly missing him. "Murderer!", he yelled.

The large orange tom didn't even look up or seem at all surprised. "Quite probably. Which murder are you referring to?" He continued to drum his claws on the desktop, utterly unperturbed. "Oh, and by the way, Mungojerrie, it's rude to burst in on people like that." Finally, the Hidden Paw glanced up. The look he gave his employee would have frozen the blood in the veins of the world's bravest cats.

Mungojerrie faltered. "Yer killed Teaz!" The accusation didn't come out sounding quite as forceful and violent as he had hoped. He rather sounded like a petulant child having a tantrum.

The Hidden Paw laughed. "Oh, yes. That. I thought you'd want to see me about that. Now that murder actually wasn't me." He got up from his desk and held out a piece of paper. "Read it." The tone of voice left no room for discussion. As Macavity made his way back round the desk to sit down, Mungojerrie obediently began to read, all his previous anger transformed into confusion. This was not going the way he had planned.

_Macavity, _

_Round one goes to me, I think. You still have no idea who I am, you_

_didn't manage to prevent the crime and you definitely didn't manage_

_to get to her first. All in all a bit of a sham really. Loosing your touch?_

_Anyway, better luck next time. Happy hunting, Macavity._

_Regards. _

The thief looked up from the note to stare into Macavity's inscrutable golden eyes. "Is this true? Oi mean is it real? Yer 'onestly didn't kill 'er?" Slowly the Napoleon of Crime shook his head, never breaking eye contact with his subordinate. "Then 'oo did?", the calico tom whispered. It didn't even cross his mind to doubt Macavity. He'd seen his boss' handwriting enough times to know that he hadn't written the note and like he said, what would he gain from killing Rumpleteazer? "Oi believe yer," he repeated slowly, "but if yer didn't kill 'er, ffen 'oo did?"

"That is what I have been trying to find out. I was rather annoyed to find one of my best burglars had been killed so I sent some of my henchcats to look into it. They found nothing. No clues, no traces, no scent, nothing." Macavity shrugged. "Looks like it's a dead end." He began drumming his claws on the desk making a soft, slow tapping noise. "I can tell you one thing, though. The murderer wouldn't have had time to get away. There were people blocking the only exit all day. He couldn't have got out and he wasn't still there when we searched for him." The golden eyes flicked up to focus on Mungojerrie's blue ones. Macavity seemed to be waiting for him to understand what that meant.

It only took a second. Realisation suddenly hit him and Mungojerrie reeled as if he had been physically hit in the chest. For a brief second he was frozen in shock and forgot how to breathe or think or do anything. Slowly he whispered: "If no one could 'ave left but there weren't no one there it must 'ave been somebody from inside." A brief tilt of Macavity's head confirmed his reasoning. "One of the Jellicles?", the small tom hissed softly.

The intense gaze from the golden eyes opposite him was enough to confirm his worst fears without Macavity saying a word. He was right. It was one of the Jellicle who had murdered his mate, his beloved Rumpleteazer, someone she had loved and trusted. Hate welled up inside him and his vision blurred, a hazy red. Someone had betrayed her trust and murdered her. He would find whoever had done this and kill them, he swore to himself. He would _kill_ them.

* * *

It was early evening. In Munkustrap and Demeter's den the conversation was stilted and forced as the four cats sat down to their evening meal. Jemima was sat as close to her father as she could, a worried, frightened frown on her little face. Opposite them, Bombalurina had a paw resting on Demeter's arm comfortingly. None of them had much of an appetite.

For the silver tom it had been a busy day. He had spent the time alternately patrolling the Junkyard and checking up on all the other Jellicles to make sure they were all still safe. He was tired and cold and felt generally run down. The responsibility of his position made it impossible for him to relax nevertheless and he yearned to be outside again in the bitter cold, just so he could do one final check before people started to go to bed.

The three queens had had an even more trying day. They had been stuck inside with very little to do and nothing to distract them from the fear gnawing at them and churning in the pits of their stomachs. It had fallen to Bombalurina to try and entertain Jemima, Demeter was in no fit state to do anything. She had spent most of the day cowering fearfully by the window peering out and jumping at the smallest noises. The scarlet queen had passed her time running between mother and daughter trying to keep them both sane and not knowing if she was succeeding on either count.

They pretended to eat for about twenty minutes before Bombalurina got to her feet. "Come on, Jemmie," she said brightly, "let's go to bed. It's getting late." Her voice was too cheery and her smile a little forced, but none of the others commented. Jemima just let herself be pulled out the room despite the fact it wasn't anywhere near her bedtime or even dark yet.

Her parents stayed sat at the table for a little while longer before Munkustrap got to his feet and wandered over to the bed as if he too wanted to get an early night. He sat down heavily on the bed and spoke for the fist time since he had got in: "There is one thing still troubling me."

Taking a seat next to him Demeter rested her head on his shoulder and comfortingly stroked his fur. "What is it? I thought you had everything sorted. All the extra safety precautions..." She tailed off staring anxiously up at him. Her paws shook slightly.

Her mate sighed heavily. "I wish I knew where Alonzo was."

* * *

They found Alonzo later that evening. The shadows were lengthening and the sun was slipping slowly down behind the surrounding buildings towards the horizon. A few birds still flitted across the sky, silhouetted against livid, gold clouds but apart from that all was still and quiet.

He was curled against an old pipe, eyes closed peacefully as if he had just dropped off, serene smile on his face. Only the blood pooling beneath him disillusioned the Jellicles as they stood silently by the body of the cat who had been one of their greatest friends and protectors. There was nothing they could do for him any more. He was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

Rumpleteazer and Alonzo, as it turned out, were only the first. The same night they found the black and white tom, Pouncival found his little sister Etcetera huddled in a cardboard box where she had been hiding during a game of hide-and-seek. She too was still and cold, although mercifully she wasn't covered in blood and didn't seem to have felt any pain. Examining her afterwards, Jennyanydots tearfully informed them that she had most likely been given an overdose and had just fallen asleep never to wake up.

That was the final straw. Pandemonium broke out in the Junkyard and all the Jellicles descended into a state of mortal terror. Jellylorum, sobbing uncontrollably gathered up her remaining two children and her father-in-law Gus and left the Junkyard without so much as a word of goodbye, Pouncival and Electra staring over their shoulders at their friends as they went. Asparagus followed them after briefly explaining to Munkustrap that it wasn't safe for what was left of his family here and he wanted to get them as far away as possible. They weren't planning on returning.

Skimbleshanks went to work on his train as usual but took Jennyanydots with him. Neither of them came back. From what he could gather, Munkustrap thought they had taken Asparagus and his family with them and were probably somewhere in Scotland by now. He couldn't say he blamed them. They were far safer where they were than here in the Junkyard.

The remaining Jellicles barricaded themselves in their dens, all thoughts of patrols and guards forgotten. No one cared any more about keeping strangers out. It hadn't helped before, why would it now?

Cassandra, Coricopat and Tantomile shared a den in an old oven, Cassandra having moved in with the twins after they found her mate. The three of them collected enough food to last several weeks and pulled rubbish down literally blocking themselves in the den. Mistoffelees and Victoria did something similar, leaving only a small exit in case of emergencies. Admetus managed to persuade Plato and Tumblebrutus to stay with him and the three toms retreated to a den at the top of the highest stack of junk they could find. The door was securely locked and whatever time of day or night it was, one of them could always be seen on guard at the little window by the door. Nobody knew where the Rum Tum Tugger had gone, he hadn't been seen since the meeting in the car. Presumably he had just retreated to one of his more hidden lairs, where he always went to avoid his screaming fan club and was hiding there alone. The narrow pipe that served as Exotica's den was boarded up but whether she was still living there or not Munkustrap wasn't sure. His own family he had made sure was safely locked inside their den. Bombalurina was still staying with them to look after her friend when he was out and Jemima seemed glad of her company. Demeter wasn't in a fit state to be classed as good company for a frightened little kitten. Being with her mother only seemed to scare poor little Jemima even more.

Not one of them even attempted to leave their dens, not once.

Only Munkustrap continued to try and guard the perimeter of the Junkyard. Most of his days he spent pacing up and down, wearing deep tracks into the dry earth, looking out for any sign of danger. Whatever the weather, he could still be seen trudging around, trying by himself to do a job that required lots of people. He hardly slept, barely ate and was almost never at home and while he walked, he was always thinking, thinking about the promise he had made to Demeter.

Days turned into weeks and there were no more murders and yet still no one dared to venture outside. If anything the sense of unease grew and reached a fever pitch. The whole Junkyard was holding it's breath. The murderer was clearly just biding his time, waiting for someone to be foolish enough to leave the safety of their den and none of them wanted to be that someone.

* * *

The small, fluffy dark grey Persian queen stood confidently in front of Macavity's desk. Her gold eyes were cast down respectfully and she gave off an air of glamour and style, while looking intelligent at the same time. While she talked she didn't move a muscle apart from the occasional twitch of her tail and her claws flexing at intervals. Her voice was clever but definitely bored sounding, with a disdainful ring to it.

"They're all in a panic and have locked themselves in their dens. Some of them have even left the Junkyard. Looked like they they were leaving for good, they took most of their things and their other children with them, probably because of their daughter's death. Munkustrap still keeps patrolling the Junkyard but everyone else is barricaded inside. They're all still convinced it was you that did it, boss. Apart from that there isn't really anything to report."

The air temperature in the room was about as icy as the look the Hidden Paw shot at the Persian. "What do you mean their other children? They only have one daughter," he hissed, his voice dangerously low, "and 'some of them' is useless to me. I want to know which ones have left. What is the point of employing you if you can't even make a simple report properly?" His eyes glittered maliciously at her as if daring her to make another mistake.

The queen took the hint. "Gus, Jellylorum, Asparagus, Pouncival, Electra, Skimbleshanks and Jennyanydots." She practically spat each of the names voice dripping with disgust and disdain. "And Mungojerrie, of course." She reserved a particularly nasty sneer for the calico thief and wrinkled her nose like he was something unpleasant she'd stepped in.

Macavity's eyes snapped up from the sheet of paper he had been studying blazing dangerously. The intensity of his gaze made his employee shift uncomfortably and clear her throat several times, all traces of confidence long gone. "What about the other kitten?", he snarled, "why didn't they take her with them?"

A confused expression flitted briefly across the grey queen's face. "What other... Oh, I see." Realisation dawned. "The little pale one, Etcetera. She's dead."

The way she said it so simply surprised even Macavity. For the briefest of seconds he sat staring at her. "Dead?", the ginger tom repeated slowly, "how?" Once again he had his emotions under perfect control and his face was as impassive as ever but underneath his mind was racing.

"The murderer got to her. Didn't you get a note? Surely you already knew that?"

Rage boiled in the Napoleon of Crime's eyes. "Get out of my sight, Dylana." Sparks were practically flying from him as his fur bristled angrily. "Get. Out."

The little queen didn't need telling twice. With a quick backwards glance she darted out of the room and Macavity heard her paws clattering away on the metal staircase. He sat perfectly still listening until the noise had faded away to nothing, then jumped up and began to slowly and deliberately pace up and down the room.

What was going on?, was the first thought that sprang into his mind. There were two things he was failing to understand. Firstly, why hadn't he received a gloating note warning him of little Etcetera's murder and secondly, why had there been no deaths since?

His claws scraped on the old battered floorboards, which squealed in protest as he walked on them but Macavity took no notice of the noise. He needed to think and he always found it easier to think when walking. Outside the window the sky was cold and grey. Rain lashed viciously down at a bizarrely horizontal angle pounding against the glass panes and hammering on the walls of the warehouse. Somewhere beneath him, the old walls would be leaking into his henchcats' sleeping area and drenching them all but in the office Macavity was warm and dry.

What was the murder waiting for? What was he or she waiting for him, Macavity, to do? What were they expecting and _why hadn't he got a note_? Questions buzzed round his head like angry flies in a jar, making the ginger tom grind his teeth frustratedly. He hated not knowing, hated being outsmarted by someone. The Hidden Paw was accustomed to always being the one pulling the strings, the one controlling everything, the one in charge. Now it was his turn to be manipulated and it was driving him insane.

As he paced, his mind slowly began to calm and he began to logically assess each of the questions in turn. It was impossible to know what the murderer was expecting or what they were waiting for, thus, it was no use thinking about it. Resolution made, Macavity instantly dismissed these questions from his mind and moved on.

That left the question of the note and the curious lack of murders since. Casting his mind back, he went over what Dylana had reported. _"They're all in a panic and have locked themselves in their dens. Some of them have even left the Junkyard. Looked like they they were leaving for good, they took most of their things and their other children with them, probably because of their daughter's death. Munkustrap still keeps patrolling the Junkyard but everyone else is barricaded inside. They're all still convinced it was you that did it, boss. Apart from that there isn't really anything to report." _

Astonished by his own blindness, Macavity almost laughed at himself. How could he have missed that? Of course there had been no more murders, there couldn't have been. The murderer was one of the Jellicles and they were all barricaded inside. Meaning the murderer was trapped inside, unable to reach any of the others to kill them. It was so simple, Macavity almost laughed again.

Another thought occurred to him. What if he had received the note? What if he'd just missed it? Quickly crossing to the desk the Napoleon of Crime began to sift through the numerous papers, maps and document stacked in massive, teetering piles on every available surface in the room, many of them even spilling onto the floor due to lack of space. It didn't take long for his to uncover another battered, badly written, dirty envelope. With eager paws, Macavity tore it open and read:

_Macavity, _

_Your stupidity really is astonishing. Haven't you worked it out yet? You know,_

_sometimes I get the feeling you're not even trying – sending your 'employees'_

_to do all the work. Tut, tut._

_Anyway, see if you can stop this next one, but I warn you, you won't have much _

_time. I've got her in my sights already. Enjoy the chase, Macavity._

_Regards._

He would have to look into this himself he decided. Whoever had written the note was right, sending his henchcats to try and solve this puzzle was no good. If you want something done properly, the large, ginger tom reflected, you have to do it yourself.

* * *

It was getting late when a stiff, cold, tired Munkustrap finally headed back towards his den and supper. As usual he had spent the day wandering the empty Junkyard with no one for company and absolutely no chance of someone coming out to help him. The other cats were still as scared as ever and apart from Demeter, Bombalurina and Jemima he hadn't seen hide or hair of any of them since the night they had discovered Alonzo and poor little Etcetera, nor did he expect to.

The silver tom sighed. He wasn't sure how long they could carry on like this for, living in a state of constant terror. It was taking it's toll on everyone in his den and he was prepared to put money on the fact in the other dens around the Junkyard the situation was similar. If something didn't happen soon they would probably all go mad. It was the waiting and the suspense that was the worst part, cowering in the darkness of their dens wondering which, if any, of them would be next. It was enough to drive anyone insane.

At any rate, he was nearly home and was looking forwards to warming up, having something to eat and catching up on a few hours sleep. What the others did was really none of his concern any more. They clearly didn't need or desire his help. Best to just focus on his family and all of them getting through this together. Whatever this was.

_Try not to think about it_, Munkustrap thought to himself, _there's nothing you can do. There's been no sign of Macavity for days. You can't protect them from something that isn't here. This time, you'll just have to sit this one out and wait and see what happens. There's nothing else you can do, anyway._

He let out another drawn-out sigh, his breath floating briefly in the air in front of him like a cloud before being carried away on the ice-cold breeze. Nearly home. The familiar sense of relief washed over him as he crossed the last few yards of the clearing and pushed open the door, hearing Demeter, Jemima and Bombalurina's voices all clamouring loudly somewhere near the back of the den.

He had barely got in the door, however, in the few seconds it took him to realise something was wrong. The voices he heard were shrill and strained, all raised unnaturally loudly and he could hear a hint of hysteria in Demeter's high-pitched wail, a slight sob in Jemima's voice and an all-too-positive note to Bombalurina's words as if she were trying to calm the other two while freaking out herself.

"What's going on? What's happened? Are you all alright?", Munkustrap yelled, all thoughts of dinner and sleep forgotten. "Bomba, Jemmie, Dem?" He dashed through to the back part of the den which served them as a bedroom. Pulling aside the curtain, he caught sight of three frightened, tear-stained faces. The three queens were huddled together on the bed all talking over each other and crying hysterically. "What is it?" The silver tabby rushed over to the bed and crouched down beside it. "Demeter?" He reached out to put a paw on her arm.

The black and gold queen screeched and jumped away as if she had been burnt. The other two screamed and scrambled away as well, Jemima bursting into a violent fit of tears, Bombalurina wrapping her arms protectively round her friend and her daughter.

Munkustrap suddenly realised that until then, they had been so preoccupied they hadn't even noticed him come in, probably they had been making too much noise to hear him. "It's me," he gently reached out a paw again, "I'm sorry I startled you, it's just me."

"Daddy!", Jemima wailed and threw herself off the bed into his arms, "daddy!" She wrapped her tiny arms around his neck and clung on whimpering pathetically. The silver tom could feel her tears wetting his fur as he gently rocked her and stroked her fur, mumbling soothing words in her ear. Eventually, her tears began to subside and she lay quietly in his arms hiccuping slightly, her watery, red-rimmed eyes focussed on his face.

Only when the young kitten was completely calm did Munkustrap turn to his mate. "Dem, what's happened?"

The queen just stared at him her chocolate-brown eyes filled with terror and said nothing. Her beautiful fur was sticking out all over the place and tears were dripping into her lap but she made no effort to brush them away. Bombalurina waited for a second, anxiously studying her friend, before she spoke: "It's Macavity", she practically breathed. Munkustrap had to lean closer to hear her. "He's after Demmie." And with that she too dissolved into sobs once more, squeezing her friend's hand as if by doing this she could somehow prevent anything from happening to her.

"What do you mean 'it's Macavity'? How do you know he's after Dem? Tell me, Bomba!", Munkustrap's voice grew louder with every question until he was almost shouting. Jemima whimpered again and hid her face in her father's fur. The silver tabby grabbed the scarlet queen's arm and shook her hard. "Talk to me!"

Bombalurina gulped loudly twice before she managed to speak. Even then her voice was too shrill and unnatural. "We were playing with Jemmie. I was kneeling down so I didn't see him but Dem was standing up and saw him pass the window. Jemmie and I only saw his shadow on the floor but it was so tall it must have been him. He was here! We were so frightened we decided to hide as far away from the door as possible, in your bedroom but when we got there we found this on Demeter's pillow." With trembling paws the red queen held out a long, glittering object.

Taking it carefully and turning it over in his paws, Munkustrap stared down at the wickedly sharp carving knife. It was clearly a threat, a threat aimed at Demeter. He felt his breathing quicken and his heart pounded uncomfortably in his chest, the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He had to do something. And whatever it was, he had to do it fast. If Macavity had been there only a little while ago, he was likely to still be somewhere in the area. The danger to Demeter was very real and very imminent indeed. She needed to get away to safety and quickly. "I'll take you all to a safe hiding place", he decided, his voice sounding miraculously calm and controlled, "if I hide you, no one but me will know where you are and you'll be safe. He won't expect you to move. He'll assume you'll still be too terrified to leave the den. If we act quickly we can..."

"No," a voice croaked. It was thick with tears and hoarse from crying and screaming and it took the tom several seconds to recognize it as that of his mate. "No, we can't." He opened his mouth to protest, but Demeter cut him off again. "I'm the intended victim. As long as they're with me, they'll be in danger. They can't stay with me. Hide them, make sure they're both safe." She looked like she had given up. The unspoken implication of her words was clear: make sure they're safe, I'm not going to survive much longer anyway.

It was Jemima's turn to squeal: "No! Mummy, I don't want you to go without me. You can't leave me! Don't go!" She launched herself out of Munkustrap's arms and clung to Demeter like a drowning man clinging to a life-ring. "Don't go, don't leave me."

Munkustrap was trying to think. His head was pounding and his brain seemed to be going ten times slower than usual. A vein in his temple started to throb. What should he do? Demeter needed protecting, he had to hide her, but what about Jemima and Bombalurina? Was Demeter right, was it safer if he hid her alone?

His thoughts were interrupted by a paw touching his arm. The Jellicle protector looked up into Bombalurina's pale face. She spoke quietly, her words intended only for him. "Munkustrap, take Demeter and Jemima and hide them somewhere safe." He looked like he was about to protest but she continued: "You know as well as I do that if he suspects they've gone he'll search for them. And he always finds what he's looking for. The only way to keep them safe is for me to stay here so it looks like there are still people in the den. If he thinks we're still here he won't go looking for them. It's the only way." Her face had grown even paler as she spoke but her mouth was pressed together in a determined line.

Slowly, the silver tabby nodded. "I understand. But you'll be putting yourself in grave danger. If he comes here looking for Demeter..." He left the sentence hanging in the air, unfinished.

"I know that. Then he'd search for her anyway but at least I'd have bought her some time. I'd have given you time to come up with a plan." Her eyes filled with tears as she stared earnestly up into his face. "I love Demeter like a sister and Jemima is like a niece to me. I can't bear the thought of anything happening to them. I'd rather die myself than see them hurt. You have to do this Munkustrap. It's the only way." The scarlet queen gently pushed him towards his family. "Go, go quickly. I'll be fine by myself."

He glanced back over his shoulder at her once but did as she said. Gathering Demeter up in his arms and taking Jemima by the hand, Munkustrap made his way to the door. "Both of you need to be quiet", he whispered, "if he's anywhere near us and hears you crying, he'll know what's going on, so don't make a sound." Both queens stared at him but stopped crying. Silence fell in the den.

Silently, the tom pushed open the door and peered out. The air was cold, blankets of cloud covered the stars and the moon making the darkness almost complete. Rain still lashed down on them from the heavens and a chill wind was in the air. The Junkyard was deserted. Munkustrap took a deep breath. Still nothing moved. He waited for a minute. No signs of life.

One last time he turned to look back at Bombalurina. The scarlet queen stood bravely in the middle of the den. She had dried her tears and her chin was up, head raised in defiance. Her beautiful eyes were full of fear but the wave she gave the three of them showed nothing but confidence and bravery, she even managed an encouraging smile. "Good luck", she whispered.

With that, the small family plunged out into the night. Afterwards, none of them could remember much of the trip through the storm and only Munkustrap knew where they were going and which route to take. It took about an hour in the worst conditions but he never stumbled or slipped, never slowed down or paused to rest. The whole way he carried Demeter in his arms and led their daughter by the hand.

As he walked, the silver tom worried. He was getting Demeter and Jemima to safety but what about the others? What would Macavity do to them when he found Demeter had gone? Would he kill them instead? A nagging voice in Munkustrap's head told him this was probably the case. His family may be safe but by hiding them he had effectively killed one of the other Jellicles in Demeter's place. These and similar thought revolved round his head the whole time, at point almost making him feel sick and dizzy. But what could he do? His family were his top priority. His responsibility was to them first, then the rest of the tribe.

When at last they reached the new den all three were wet, cold and tired. Munkustrap immediately set about lighting a fire and making up beds for the two queens, not bothering to stop and rest. His muscles ached and protested but he didn't really care. He needed sleep and food but that could wait. First he had to make sure Jemima and Demeter were safe.

After checking the doors and windows and making sure they had food, Munkustrap prepared to head out into the storm again. He had to get back to the Junkyard to create the façade that nothing had changed. Everything depended on Macavity believing Demeter and Jemima were still at home.

On the threshold he turned back to face them where they sat warming themselves by the fire. As he watched them his face broke into a smile. "I love you both. You'll be safe here," he promised and blowing them a last kiss headed out into the storm.


	4. Chapter 4

_Macavity,_

_I left you a bit of extra time after the last one, not that it seems to have helped _

_at all. You're no closer to catching me than when we started, are you? Have you_

_even been trying? I find it hard to believe that you can be this slow. What is it _

_people call you? The Napoleon of Crime? I don't know whether to laugh or laugh._

_Anyway, if at first you don't succeed, try, try, try again, so I've laid on another little _

_murder for you. I'll even tell you when this time: around nine o'clock this evening should_

_be as good a time as any. And see if you can actually get any closer this time. It's getting _

_a little boring, you know. Good luck, Macavity. _

_Regards._

The office was filled with the irritating sound of Macavity clicking his claws together as he read. For weeks there had been nothing, no notes, no word from the Junkyard, nothing and now suddenly another note had showed up.

The Hidden Paw scowled as he reread the letter for the fifth time. Why now? Why the break in murders? Why not earlier? It didn't make any sense. Nothing had changed since yesterday, for example. He couldn't understand it. And he was no closer to actually working out what had happened. For weeks now he had been sending spies to investigate the Junkyard and watch it's inhabitants but to no avail. He was no further forwards than he had started and it was beginning to get to him.

The tension was making him short-tempered and irritable and he had developed a seemingly permanent splitting headache. The frustration at being outwitted, at not being in control gave him the maddening desire to smash everything he could reach and whenever anyone spoke to him they were fixed with a murderous glare, as if they personally were responsible for the situation.

Fighting to get a grip over his growing sense of fury, the Hidden Paw took a deep breath and focussed his attention intently on the pattern of the wood of his desk. With his eyes he traced each line, each scratch, each claw-mark until he began to feel calmer again and his mind began to clear.

He had to think about this logically. Macavity reached across his desk and pulled a sheet of paper towards him. Picking up his pen he began to write, pausing every few seconds to think, his brow creasing in concentration.

It took a good hour but eventually the Napoleon of Crime put down his pen with a satisfied sigh to read what he had written. It was a neat list of all the Jellicles in alphabetical order. Next to each name he had made a note of relevant information, possible motives, alibis and so forth. The list ran as follows:

_**Admetus** – No evidence for or against, possibility._

_**Alonzo** – Second victim, could not have murdered Etcetera or sent third & fourth notes_

_**Asparagus** – Etcetera's father: would he kill his own daughter?, gone away (Scotland?) & no more murders: connection? (check he actually has gone to Scotland! Could have pretended to go away)_

_**Bombalurina** – Could possibly have done it to gain my attention, clever enough? _

_**Bustopher Jones** – Hardly ever in Junkyard – no opportunity, too unfit to brutally murder anyone_

_**Cassandra** – Could have wanted to kill her mate and been using other murders as cover to divert suspicion? _

_**Coricopat** – Would never act alone, both twins would be involved – no evidence to suggest more than 1 person, in fact, from notes it seems definitely like just one person. Possible but unlikely_

_**Demeter** – Too afraid and not clever enough to challenge me, would never have killed a kitten, unlikely._

_**Electra** – Only a kitten: Could not have killed Alonzo, would not have killed her sister_

_**Etcetera** – Third victim, why was she playing hide-and-seek when there was a murderer around? could someone have suggested it so they could kill her without any witnesses? _

_**Exotica** – Quiet & keeps to herself – plenty of opportunity, no one knows much about her..._

_**Grizabella** – Jealousy, revenge? Good motives but hardly any opportunity – Jellicles patrol Junkyard so someone would have seen her if she had been there_

_**Gus** – Too old and frail to have killed anyone, gone away (Scotland?) - check he has actually gone_

_**Jellylorum** – Gone away (Scotland? - check!), killed her own daughter? Highly unlikely. _

_**Jemima** – Only a kitten: could not have killed Alonzo - not strong enough, faints at the sight of blood: would have murdered victims in a different way. Highly unlikely._

_**Jennyanydots** – Gone away (Scotland? - check!), killed her own daughter? Highly unlikely. _

_**Mistoffelees** – Motive? Strong enough to kill Alonzo? No evidence for or against. _

_**Mungojerrie** – Would never have killed Rumpleteazer, not clever enough to challenge me, has been here under surveillance since first murder – could not have committed second and third murders_

_**Munkustrap** – Quiet & responsible – could something have snapped? gone insane?, quiet types can go a bit odd sometimes, Opportunity – everyone trusts him and would do whatever he says_

_**Old Deuteronomy** – Hardly ever in the Junkyard – someone would have noticed if he'd been there, too old, can't imagine him as a murderer, could have gone insane in his old age and started killing people? _

_**Plato** – Technically capable of committing crimes, Possible motive? teenager, trying to prove he is grown up and rebel against adults? Possibility_

_**Pouncival** – Gone away (Scotland?), only a kitten, unlikely to kill his own sister, incapable of killing Alonzo – highly unlikely _

_**Rumpleteazer** – Dead, first victim: unable to have committed the later crimes_

_**Rum Tum Tugger** – Jealous of my success (outdone by older brother?): could have sent notes & clever enough to commit crimes_

_**Skimbleshanks** – Was away when first murder was committed (work? Check he actually was on train at the time!), gone away (Scotland?) - check he has actually gone!_

_**Tantomile** – Would never act alone, both twins would be involved – no evidence to suggest more than 1 person, in fact, from notes it seems definitely like just one person. Possible but unlikely_

_**Tumblebrutus** – Discovered first body – murdered her and pretended to find body as cover? Could technically have killed Alonzo – strong enough, Would he have murdered Etcetera?_

_**Victoria** – Only a kitten: not strong enough to kill Alonzo, no evidence to suggest she is involved_

_Note: Could one of the weaker Jellicles have got someone else to commit murders for them? Could it be several people working together? - Possible, but no evidence to suggest multiple people are involved._

It seemed to be a complete list and every detail seemed to make perfect sense but rereading it, none of the Jellicles seemed overwhelmingly likely candidates for murderers. But how could that be? It had to be one of them. Unless... Unless, he was wrong and the author of the notes was _not_ one of the Jellicles. Maybe it was an outsider, who...

Angrily, Macavity shook his head and raked his claws through his fur, making it stick out at an impossible angle. That theory wouldn't wash. Why would an outsider be so interested in his relationship with the Jellicles and how would they have gained access to the Junkyard? No, his original theory must be right. One of the Jellicles had to be the murderer, but _which one_?

Which one? It always came back to that question. Which one? Again, the Napoleon of Crime pulled his paper towards him but quickly gave up on it. What was the point of rereading his notes a thousand times? It wasn't getting him anywhere. It was time to act. So far he had only sent out his subordinates to bring him information, he hadn't done anything himself. The notes had warned him that it would not be enough and it clearly wasn't. He would have to solve this one alone.

In his hurry to get up Macavity sent his desk chair bouncing across the hard wooden floor. If he really got a move on he could get to the Junkyard, possibly even in time to catch the murderer in the act. Banging the door shut behind him the Hidden Paw took the steps three at a time as he bounded out into fog and driving rain of a London evening.

* * *

The twins froze. They had both felt it, like a thought in the back of your mind that you can't quite put into words or a word on the tip of your tongue that you are unable to think of. Something had happened, something terrible.

Tantomile shot her brother a worried and confused look, dropping the mouse she had been holding all thoughts of dinner forgotten. Her face was full of fear and she instinctively stepped closer to him, as if to hide behind him like she had always done as a kitten. From his answering glance she could tell he had no more idea of what had just happened than she did and he was anxious which made Tantomile even more nervous. If Coricopat was worried something bad must have happened. In her mind the queen began to go through everything that might explain the peculiar feeling but her thoughts kept returning to one horrible conclusion: another murder. She didn't even have to look at her twin to know he was thinking the exact same thing. There must have been another murder.

As one the pair got up from the pile of blankets they had been curled on, Tantomile moving slightly behind Coricopat and as close to him as possible. Subconsciously, the older twin shifted to be stood between his sister and the door. If they had felt the murder take place it must have been quite near, meaning the murderer must also be close and he was not going to let anything, _anything_,hurt his sister. If anyone wanted to hurt her, they'd have to get past him first and he was nevergoing to let that happen. He would protect her, no matter what.

Together, they slowly inched across the room to the door. Their breathing was shallow and rapid and sounded too loud in the suddenly claustrophobic-feeling room. The slight noise of their paws on the floor seemed to echo in the almost painful silence and time almost seemed to come to a halt. It was as if time itself was holding it's breath.

After what felt like an eternity, the pair reached the door and Coricopat reached out a paw to push it open. With an almost panicked exclamation, Tantomile grabbed hold of his arm her eyes wide and scared. "Don't!" Her lips continued mouthing wordlessly and she shook her head, trying to back away from the door and pull him with her.

Gently he prised her paws off his arm and pushed the door open to reveal Cassandra's bedroom. What they saw was the beautiful Abyssinian queen huddled on her bed. Everything was very still, not even a breath of wind stirred in the room. The blankets covering Cassandra didn't even show the rise or fall of her chest...

Tantomile screamed and rushed to her friend. "Cassandra?" Carefully she rolled the silent queen onto her back, shaking her shoulder as she did so. "Cassie?" The Abyssinian didn't move. "Cassie! Cassandra, say something!", Tantomile was practically shrieking now, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Joining his twin by the bed, Coricopat let himself fall to his knees and took hold of Cassandra's wrist to feel for a pulse. Her paw was limp and still warm, but there was no pulse to be felt and the body was rapidly cooling. The tom screwed his eyes shut as a wave of nausea overcame him. She couldn't be dead, she just couldn't. Cassandra had always been one of his closest fiends, to think that she was gone was physically painful. Maybe it was all a nightmare and he'd wake up and find that she was fine. Maybe...

A hitch in Tantomile's breathing alerted him to the fact something was wrong. Her sobs stopped abruptly to be replaced by complete silence, as if she was holding her breath. Coricopat's eyes snapped open and he turned to stare at his sister. Tears were still staining her cheeks, but she was no longer crying. Her eyes were wide and terrified, focussed on something just over his left shoulder.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Coricopat turned around to look behind him. The room was dark and shadowy, only the bed being lit up by the light from the open door but in the darkness the tom could just make out a pair of glowing gold eyes. Squinting into the gloom, Coricopat saw the eyes belonged to a tall, thin, ginger tom who stood frozen by the door. Macavity! Coricopat's heart began to hammer painfully. When he had supposed the murderer to still be close he had been right. He was still in the room with them. Swallowing hard, mouth dry, Coricopat moved in front of Tantomile, reaching behind him to grab hold of her paw. He could feel her trembling.

The Hidden Paw did nothing. For a few seconds he stood frozen staring right back at the pair of Jellicles a look of surprise on his face. Then he blinked several times and was gone, disappearing out of the open door and through a small hole in the ceiling into the Junkyard outside. No trace of him remained and if it hadn't been for the door which was still swinging slightly on it's hinges from where he had brushed against it, Coricopat would have thought he had been imagining things.

Eventually he turned back to Tantomile. "We have to tell the others."

* * *

They had found Munkustrap easily, wearily pacing up and down the Junkyard by himself. Quickly, the pair had explained what had happened and the Jellicle protector had hurried off to gather the others leaving the twins cowered together in an empty dustbin waiting.

It had been a long wait. The hours had slipped by and no one had come. Not daring to move they had stayed huddled together in the cold, metal bin listening for the sound of anyone approaching and jumping at the tiniest noises. An hour, two, three, four hours had passed and still there had been no sign of Munkustrap. Coricopat had begun to worry that he too had been murdered while trying to get to the other Jellicles by the time Munkustrap reappeared, tired and resigned-looking. He had led the pair out onto the roof of an old rusty car and encouraged them to tell their story. Below, the rest of their tribe was assembled, upturned faces filled with fear and dread, all eyes on the twins.

They stood in silence as Coricopat explained what had happened. Beside him Tantomile was unable to speak, sobs racking her thin frame. She looked like a shell of her former self.

A collective gasp rose from the crowd below them when Coricopat reached the part about Macavity and several of the other cats turned to mutter to each other. Victoria looked like she was about to faint and Demeter who had been hiding near the back of the group clutched at Jemima and stared about her as if she expected Macavity to come leaping out from behind the nearest stack of rubbish at any second. Munkustrap shifted uncomfortably where he stood behind the twins, eyeing his mate nervously. For a second no one seemed able to take it in. Their worst fears had been confirmed! Macavity was slowly picking them off, one by one. Gradually a sense of dread settled over them all and instinctively they shifted closer together.

"That's why I called you all here," Munkustrap spoke up and stepped past Coricopat, briefly resting a paw on his shoulder in support, "clearly all hiding in our dens is not going to keep us safe. If we all hide alone, we're more vulnerable. There is safety in numbers. Now we know that Macavity is indeed responsible..."

He was cut short by a renewed chorus of terrified murmuring and the shifting and rustling of the Jellicles looking nervously around them, eyes straining to see in the gathering gloom.

A voice, high-pitched and clear, cut through the background noise. "Are you sure it was Macavity?", Jemima asked. Her question was met with an abrupt silence. No one answered. The kitten looked around her and tried again: "Are you _sure _it was Macavity? In the stories people tell about him, if he's committed a crime he's never there when it's discovered. Everyone says that. How come..."

Demeter clapped a paw over her daughter's mouth. "Be quiet, Jemmie," her voice was trembling, "you'll just upset people and you don't know what you're talking about. It was him, I know it was!" She glanced around her for support.

Quickly, Bombalurina piped up: "Your Mum's right. Remember, we all saw him as well. He probably wanted us to know it was him. I bet it was all part of his plan, to make sure we were all even more terrified." Several nods and murmurs of agreement met this statement.

"Everything he does is for a reason," Munkustrap explained, a lot more calmly than he felt, "if he let Coricopat and Tantomile see him, it was because he wanted them to. I don't know why," he quickly added when Jemima looked confused, "I don't know why, but that doesn't really matter. We know it was him, that's the important thing."

Jemima still didn't look convinced. "But the stories..."

Gently, Mistoffelees wrapped an arm round her. "It's ok, Jem. We know what we're talking about." The tuxedo tom gave her a reassuring grin and beckoned Victoria over to join them. The white kitten snuggled up to her friend and hid her face in Jemima's fur, wrapping her arms around her friend. Her brother glanced up from the pair of them and nodded to the Jellicle protector to continue.

Munkustrap waited for a second, but when Jemima didn't object again he continued: "I suggest that in stead of all hiding by ourselves, we make one big den and all hide together. Like I said, safety in numbers. If we're all together he can't get at anyone to murder them."

The suggestion was met with enthusiastic approval and almost immediately the Jellicles got to work building themselves a large, secure den and gathering plenty of food. While at work, they all made sure to stay together in groups of three or more. Nobody seemed to want to wander off by themselves.

As the silver tabby watched them, he let his thoughts drift. He had made a mistake hiding Demeter and Jemima in an isolated, lonely spot. They had probably been the most vulnerable, hidden far away from everyone else. What if something had happened to them because of his stupidity? Far from keeping them safe, he had actually placed them in even more danger. The thought made Munkustrap shuddered. If his family had been hurt, it would have been his fault...

Resolutely, he pushed the thought from his mind. They were both safe, nothing had happened to them. No point dwelling on what might have happened. He had corrected his mistake, time to move on.

Scanning the clearing, which was fast turning into one massive den, Munkustrap noticed someone was missing. Try as he might, he could not see the Rum Tum Tugger, usually not exactly a hard figure to make out. He looked again more carefully and counted each Jellicle but there was still no sign of the Main Coon. Anxiously, Munkustrap did a quick sweep of the area. Tugger was nowhere to be seen. With a sense of foreboding, the silver tabby made his way back over to the others. There was nothing he could do for Tugger now. He'd just have to hope that he was fine by himself.


	5. Chapter 5

The den was made out of whatever rubbish they could find. The walls were thick, with only a few high up, barred windows. There was one door which was kept permanently locked, barricaded and guarded, the only way in or out was to give the password, then the door would be opened for a second before being slammed shut again immediately. Around it had been cleared of rubbish to form a wide walkway, allowing guards to patrol the area and giving them a perfect view of anyone trying to approach the den.

Inside, the layout was simple. Entering the den you came straight into the large bedroom, which was filled with enough beds for all of the Jellicles. They had decided against separate bedrooms, preferring to stick together as much as possible. Only the two remaining kitten, Victoria and Jemima, had a bedroom of their own in one corner of the adults' room. It was divided off from the main bedroom by a low wall but no door, so it was more of a three-walled cubicle than an actual room with a tiny window looking out over the Junkyard. A thick wall ran across the width of the den, splitting it into the bedrooms and the living area. In this wall were two curtained doorways, one leading into the adults' room, one into the kittens' room. In the back corner of the living room, furthest away from the door, was a tiny bathroom. The other corner was taken up by a small kitchen, again more of a cubicle than a room, as it too had only three walls, leaving it slightly more open plan but still shielded from the seating area. The main living area, was a large space filled with a sofa, table and some chairs taking up the entire space between the bathroom, kitchen and bedrooms.

For a few days everything went perfectly. The Jellicles lived relatively contently together and even succeeded in cheering each other up a little. Jemima and Victoria were happy to be able to spend time together again, Exotica admitted to feeling a lot safer now she was not by herself and even Demeter seemed to get a little less jumpy. Things were starting to look up.

That was until the noises started. It was in the middle of the night, a cold, crisp, cloudless night. Jemima was lying awake unable to sleep when she heard a soft scraping on the roof of the den. Terrified, the kitten fled to her mother in floods of tears and told her what had happened. Far from comforting her, Demeter herself started to panic and soon the whole tribe had once again descended into a state of perpetual fear, everyone jumping at the tiniest noise and panicking if they so much as caught sight of a strange shadow.

This had been about a week ago, Munkustrap reflected, and things seemed to be getting worse. Tension and tempers were running high. Arguments kept breaking out, no matter what he did to try and prevent them and certain Jellicles were frequently dissolving into fits of tears or running off to cower under their bedclothes in a state of melodramatic terror.

The silver tabby sighed. He was patrolling the walkway outside the den with Admetus. The pair were circuiting the structure in opposite directions, meeting every couple of minutes as their paths crossed. It was a rather tedious and lonely job, but Munkustrap forced himself to keep it up every day. Anything to keep his tribe and his family safe. While he walked he made sure to always keep and eye out for Tugger, but so far he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the missing Main Coon. He was really starting to worry about him and every day there was no sign of him increased the tabby's sense of foreboding. With another sigh, Munkustrap pushed his thoughts to the back of his head, something he had been doing a lot of recently, and concentrated on the Junkyard around him.

* * *

"I said I don't want any help!", Demeter screamed at the top of her lungs. She was stood in the kitchen holding a saucepan, the contents of which she had just spilled after banging into Bombalurina in the confined space. "Go away, Bombalurina! You're a terrible cook anyway. Who needs you?" She slammed the pan down on the table, her face twisted in rage. "Go away!"

The two queen were preparing the evening meal together, or were supposed to be, but so far it hadn't been very harmonious. The pair had already fallen out a handful of times and were getting more and more worked up as the stress and fear started to get to them. It was building into a massive row.

"Fine!", Bombalurina shrieked back at her friend, "well if you're so wonderful, why don't you just do it by yourself!?" She threw the knife she had been holding down onto the chopping board with so much force, that it bounced off the table and clattered across the floor, spilling carrot pieces everywhere. "I wouldn't want to spend time with someone like _you_ anyway."

The scarlet queen yanked off her apron and threw it in Demeter's face before turning on her heel and storming out the kitchen past a very uncomfortable-looking Plato and Mistoffelees who were sat at the dining table.

The black and gold queen followed her into the living room. "How dare you! What the hell was that supposed to mean?", she yelled, her face almost purple with rage. When Bombalurina ignored her, she picked up the nearest object, a china plate, and hurled it at the back of the other queen's head. The plate missed and shattered against the wall.

"Are you insane?", Bombalurina bellowed, whirling round. Sparks were practically flying from her, she looked that angry. "That could have hit me!"

"I meant to," Demeter retorted furiously.

"What is wrong with you?! You have serious issues, you know that!", advancing across the room towards her friend the red queen drew herself up to her full height, "you're self-obsessed. All you ever think about is yourself." She did a nasty, squeaky imitation of Demeter's voice: "Oh no, Macavity's after me. He's going to kill me because I'm so wonderful and the only person worth bothering with. I'm so scared, everyone make a fuss of me and try and protect me. I'm the only one that matters!" She pulled a ludicrously over the top terrified face and pretended to tear her hair out while bursting into noisy fake tears.

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" The smaller queen had her hands pressed over her ears. "You are such a... such a..." She couldn't even get the rest of the sentence out and her voice shook with anger.

"Such a what?", Bombalurina put on a whiny voice, "were you going to call me a mean name? Boo hooooo. I'm so upset!"

"I hate you sometimes! You are so childish! And you know what? Maybe you're just jealous because you always loved Macavity but he didn't even look twice at you and because you can't even find yourself a mate. No one can put up with you for long enough!"

There was a few seconds stunned silence. "What did you say?", the tall queen hissed acidly, "Me? Jealous of you? Don't make me laugh!" She turned away and stalked towards the bedroom. In the doorway she paused and looked back. "Don't ever, _ever_,come near me again!"

"Oh, you needn't worry about that!", Demeter screeched after her, "as if I would!" She too turned on her heel and slammed back into the kitchen. Loud bangs and crashes echoed around the den as she hurled ingredients into a pan and began stirring while storming around the kitchen furiously.

Meanwhile, the scarlet queen had thrown herself into bed and was sobbing noisily. A paw touched her shoulder making her jump. It was Tantomile. The younger twin put a finger to her lips and gestured over to where Tumblebrutus was tucked up in bed asleep. "Shh, Bomba. You'll wake Tumble and he's ill." When this did nothing to quieten the hysterical queen, she sat down beside her and wrapped an arm around her. "What's wrong?"

"Demeter," Bombalurina sobbed, "we had a row." 

Tactfully, Tantomile neglected to tell her that everyone in the den had been able to hear it and probably even the two toms out on patrol knew about the argument. "It's ok. Everyone falls out sometimes and whatever she said, I'm sure she didn't mean it. We've all been under a lot of stress lately and..."

"She said I didn't have a mate because no one could stand to be around me," the miserable Jellicle wailed her voice thick with tears, "am I really that bad, Tantomile? Am I really that horrible to be around?" Her eyes were brimming with tears and she was loudly choking out sobs.

"Of course not!", the mystic exclaimed loyally, "you're great to be around! Don't listen to her, she doesn't mean it anyway. All this," she gestured round the den, "has got to her and upset her, that's all."

"I've been trying so hard to be brave and look after her and Jemmie, I really have. I don't want to fall out with her, she's my best friend! I'd do anything for her. I...", the rest of the sentence was drowned out by fresh sobs as Bombalurina fought for breath, almost hyperventilating in her attempts to stop crying.

Tantomile hugged her closer. "It's alright, Bomba. You've been so brave, we all know you have. Demeter's just upset, that's all. Please calm down." She gently stroked her fur until the red queen seemed to have calmed down a bit. "You're ok. Don't cry."

At that moment, they heard the sound of little paws approaching. Jemima was stood beside the bed clutching her teddy bear. "What's happened?", her eyes were wide and innocent, "is everything ok? Why were you falling out with Mummy?" She reached out a tiny paw and copied Tantomile, stroking Bombalurina's untidy fur.

"It's... nothing...", the scarlet queen choked, "just... a... stupid... argument." Tears began to slide down her cheeks again.

Tanomile intervened quickly: "Go back to bed, Jem. Everything's fine, people are just a bit upset. Everyone will have forgotten all about it by tomorrow, you'll see." She smiled reassuringly at the kitten. "It's fine, honestly."

From behind them a male voice spoke. "Come on, Jemmie." Munkustrap and Admetus had just got back in from doing the last routine checks before everyone went to bed and Munkustrap was stood behind the two queens holding his arms out to Jemima. "Let's get you back to bed."

Delightedly, the little kitten threw herself into her father's arms. "Daddy!"

With a quick smile over his shoulder at the older Jellicles, Munkustrap led Jemima away towards the kittens' bedroom. Gently he lifted her into the bed beside Victoria's and tucked her in. "Good night, little one." Kissing her once on the forehead, he backed quietly out of the room.

* * *

Plato and Mistoffelees were still sat uncomfortably in the living room listening to the noise of the blender coming from the kitchen. Mercifully, Demeter seemed to be occupied with this and had stopped banging and slamming things around, at least for the time being.

The two toms were both lost in thought. Plato had a pack of cards and was supposedly playing patience but hadn't moved a single card in at least fifteen minutes and Mistoffelees was reading a book but he too hadn't turned over a page in ages. His eyes were unfocussed and glassy, the book wasn't even the right way up.

They were both thinking about the murders. Mistoffelees was wondering if he could somehow use his powers to prevent anyone else from being killed and Plato was raging about how inadequate he felt, not being able to protect his friends.

A large plate of food crashing down on the table in front of them made the pair jump. They hadn't even noticed the noise of the blender stop, let alone Demeter storming over to where they were sat. Plato glanced up at the small queen and was about to say something when she threw him an angry glare which made him think better of it and snap his mouth shut again.

Without so much as a 'good night' Demeter stomped into the bedroom, yanking the curtain shut behind her, so hard it almost fell off the wall.

Sighing, Mistoffelees went back to his thoughts as Plato helped himself to a sandwich.

* * *

Victoria woke up to see a ray of golden sunlight falling on the tattered carpet at the foot of her bed. Birds were singing happily somewhere outside and the air was crisp and cold. It was a lovely morning.

With a delighted squeal, the white kitten jumped out of bed and bounded over to the toy box. She was just about to start rummaging through it looking for a toy to play with when she noticed Jemima wasn't up yet. Her friend often overslept and normally Victoria would think nothing of it and just leave her to it, but today was such a lovely day she wanted someone to play with.

Leaping up from where she was sat, the little queen dashed across the room and flung herself onto the foot of Jemima's bed. "Jemmie!", she called, laughing and shook her friend gently.

The other kitten didn't move. "Jemima!", Victoria giggled and poked her friend through the blankets. Still the black and white kitten didn't react.

Startling to feel a little annoyed with her friend, Victoria decided to go for extreme wake-up-tactics. She grabbed a handful of Jemima's bedclothes in one paw and pulled as hard as she could. The blankets slithered to the floor.

What the white kitten saw was blood. Lots of blood. And it was everywhere. Jemima was covered in it, her sheets were soaked with it and Victoria's beautiful white fur had specks of red dotted all over it. Most of the blood was dry and had formed a horrible caked mess, but the mattress was still wet and squelchy with blood. Looking down at her paws, the kitten saw they were stained red from where she had put her hands on Jemima.

Victoria screamed and fainted.

* * *

Macavity wandered back into his office at one in the morning, a satisfied grin on his face. It was always such a good feeling when one of his carefully laid plans worked out perfectly. Everything had gone exactly as he'd anticipated and the whole thing had been a piece of cake. It almost made up for the horrible situation with the Jellicles, almost.

With an exasperated sigh, the Napoleon of Crime pulled the latest note towards him. It had arrived yesterday morning but he had been too busy with his plans to bother with it. The Jellicles weren't _that _important and he did still have to make a living somehow. Smiling again at the thought of the successful operation, Macavity carefully reread the note:

_Macavity,_

_I'll keep it brief this time. Do actually try and **do **something! I'm getting_

_terribly bored, you know._

_A murder is announced! Tonight at midnight. See you then. Have fun, Macavity._

_Regards._

Maybe it was something in his mentality that had changed, maybe it was the satisfaction of proving he was still as good a criminal as before, but now far from finding it stressful and aggravating, the Hidden Paw found the note amusing. Really, it was too funny. Who did this person think they were? Chortling to himself, he pulled a full report of the latest murder towards him and began to read.

As far as he could make out, Jemima had been murdered some time in the night. He felt a brief twinge of sadness at this thought. Jemima was a sweet little thing, she hadn't deserved that. Of all the Jellicles, she was the only one he had hoped would be alright. Poor thing.

Shaking his head slightly, Macavity continued. Jemima had been killed in the night. The next morning Victoria had discovered her body, tucked up in bed. Munkustrap and Admetus had been out on patrol but had gone in just before midnight. They had then gone to bed in the same room as Bombalurina, Coricopat, Tantomile, Exotica and Tumblebrutus. Demeter had gone to bed just after midnight. Plato and Mistoffelees had been sat up all night in the other room. Victoria had gone to bed around nine and slept through until morning.

The Hidden Paw decided to consider them one at a time. He could rule out Plato and Mistoffelees. Neither of them had left the table all night and unless they were in on it together, they couldn't have killed Jemima without the other one seeing them. The same went for Demeter. She was in the kitchen at the time Jemima was murdered. To get to the bedroom she would have had to get past Mistoffelees and Plato without them noticing, which was physically impossible. Tumblebrutus was sick, according to the report, and couldn't get out of bed, so he was ruled out as well. Victoria could have done it but it seemed highly unlikely.

That left the possible suspects. Tantomile, Coricopat, Bombalurina, Exotica, Munkustrap and Admetus had all supposedly been asleep when Jemima was murdered, but any one of them could have waited for the others to fall asleep and slipped past them into the kittens' room. With Bombalurina or Munkustrap, no one would even notice. Them visiting Jemima was something so normal, nobody would even remember they'd done it or take any notice of it. Plus, Bombalurina had had a row with Demeter. Maybe killing Jemima was a strange sort of revenge?

Also, you couldn't rule out the Rum Tum Tugger, Macavity thought. He was the only Jellicle to not be staying in the joint den, meaning he'd have had plenty of opportunity to sneak in unnoticed and bump off Jemima. The kittens' bedroom even had a window...

Satisfied as to his reasoning, the Napoleon of Crime lay back in his chair and stared out the window at the city of London spread out before him, lights glittering in the darkness. Really, he reflected, there was nothing more he could do today. Best to just take a well-earned break. The Jellicle problem could wait until tomorrow.


End file.
